The Switch
by timeistheonlyenemy
Summary: When Kurt meets his long-lost twin, Bentley, the two trade lives. When switched, Kurt meets Blaine and falls in love, as does Bentley with Rachel. But with Rachel thinking Bentley's gay and Blaine thinking Kurt's straight, will love ruin their plan? R&R.
1. Pilot: Must Be Tuesday

__Please read the author's note.__

__Hi, I'm Maxine.__

__This is the first fanfiction I've ever written in my life, so I hope you'll enjoy it and be kind. Though I lack experience with this site, I am close friends with an author on here, and when I presented her with this to read, she said nothing but encouraging things, telling me that I should continue it and create an account to write it. You may know her as Crazy4Klaine. I know her as Rena. __

__However, she did warn me that the format of this story is very similar to CP Coulter's Dalton, and that it'll looke like I'm copying. Honestly, I have never read Dalton, so I honestly don't know what she means by that. I may read it someday, but I'm not a big reader. Please don't sue or think I'm copying, I just wanted this story to be like an actual TV show, with the opening credits and all that junk. I'm not trying to steal anyone's ideas, either, if this is already a story on this site. I apoplogize to anyone who thinks I'm copying them, because I'm not. Honestly, as long as I'm not copying the whole storyline or anything, I don't think it shoukd matter, but seriously, if anyone has a problem with it, let me know.__

__I take critisism just as happily as I do encouragement, however, so please review if you have anything to say. If anyone wants to tell me that I'm copying their work, show me what you mean and I will change whatever you please without another word. Just please be kind.__

__Thank you and I hope you like reading about the journey that is The Switch.__

**__-I do not own Glee. If I did, several stories on this site would be canon and I would have much better things to do than sit here writing this fic.-__**

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><p><strong>The Switch<strong>

**Episode One: Pilot: Must Be Tuesday**

* * *

><p><em>When you're different, when you're special, sometimes you have to get used to being alone.<em>

_- Kurt Hummel_

* * *

><p>Kurt Hummel walked into the Lima Bean on a seemingly normal Tuesday, his messenger bag slung across his shoulder.<p>

Mercedes was supposed to accompany him on their daily coffee run, but she had called him this morning sick with the stomach bug, and she had to stay home, so Kurt went alone rather than bringing any of the other girls, deciding that they would only either bitch at him or talk his ear off.

He stepped up to the counter and ordered a Grande Non-Fat Mocha. He stepped to the side to get a mixing straw and some cream when he heard a voice behind him.

"Grande Non-Fat Mocha? Thanks." Ordered a voice that sounded scarily similar to Kurt's.

Kurt stilled and turned, only to meet the back of someone's head a few feet away. His eyes widened at the sight of the chestnut-colored hair and seemingly pale skin as the person gathered up the same type and amount of cream Kurt had.

_Calm down, Hummel, it's just a coincidence . . ._ Kurt told himself as his eyes wandered to the stranger's clothing. He was wearing a black leather jacket over what looked to be red flannel, and jeans that hung so low on his hips Kurt was afraid that if the boy shifted that his pants would fall down around his ankles, but as Kurt looked closer, he saw that there was, in fact — _Oh dear Gaga, we have a fashion crisis_ — a belt through the belt loops. However, considering that the pants were so low, the belt wrapped around just below his hips, where it was _not_ supposed to be.

"Grande Non-Fat Mocha?" The barista's voice rang out, snapping Kurt out of his trance, and he made his way to the counter.

"That's me." He said, only he said it with another voice, and when he reached for the cup, his hand met with another. He retracted it quickly, as did the other, and he looked up.

_Oh holy sweet mother of Lady Gaga and Grilled Cheesus and everything else that's holy._

When his eyes met with the boy he was looking at just a moment ago, his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, as did the other boy's.

It was like looking into a freaking mirror.

The boy had flawless, pale skin and immaculate soft-looking chestnut hair, as Kurt has seen a moment ago. He had a button nose and full, pink lips, which were parted in disbelief. His long, pale neck lead down to connect with shoulders slightly broader than Kurt's, but they were extremely similar nonetheless.

The only difference between the two was their eyes. They matched in size, though while Kurt's were a piercing glasz, the other's were a chocolatey, warm brown.

"And another Grande Non-Fat Mocha." The barista said, placing it on the counter.

The other boy snapped his gaze from Kurt's eyes to the barista, and shook his head a bit. "Th-thanks." He managed to splutter out in the same high, sweet voice as Kurt's, grabbing the coffee.

Kurt remained speechless.

The boy turned back to Kurt's gaze, and he blinked a couple times before finally saying something.

"Hi." Was all he could really gather together.

Kurt swallowed, realizing that his throat had become very dry, and locked his lips. "Hello," He finally managed to say, though he was pretty sure his brain was short-circuiting. So, without thinking, he forcefully stuck his hand out. "Um . . . I'm Kurt. Kurt Hummel." He said, not knowing he had said it until the boy took his hand and shook it, their eyes still locked.

"Bentley," He introduced himself. "Bentley Garrison."

Kurt inwardly sighed at the thought that this boy had a different last name.

". . . but my biological last name was Hummel."

_Damn it!_

Kurt blinked. "W-what do you . . ." He started, but couldn't bring himself to finish.

"I think we should sit." Bentley said, leading Kurt to a table as they were getting strange looks. Kurt nodded, and followed Bentley hesitantly to a slightly secluded table.

The sat in silence for a minute.

Then Bentley took a deep breath. "Must be Tuesday." He joked, and Kurt smiled a little at the Buffy reference.

"Yeah. Tuesday." Kurt said.

And suddenly, Kurt couldn't take it anymore.

Apparently, neither could Bentley.

"How old are you?" They both asked at the same time. "Eighteen." They both answered, and their eyes widened.

"Where were you born?" Kurt asked.

"Here. Lima Memorial." Bentley answered.

"So was I." Kurt said.

"When's your birthday?" Bentley asked.

"July sixteenth." Kurt answered.

"_So is mine_." Bentley said, his eyes still wide.

"What year?" Kurt asked.

"1993."

"Me, too." Kurt said, and for a minute they both stopped asking questions, and just looked at each other.

"What time were you born?" Bentley asked quietly.

"Two fifty-five." Kurt answered.

Bentley swallowed. "Two fifty-eight." He replied shakily.

"In the afternoon." They both said.

Kurt's pretty sure his brain short-circuited.

"So what does this mean?" Bentley asked.

Kurt swallowed and took a deep breath. "I . . . I think we might be twins."

* * *

><p><em>You come from here, <em>

_I come from there. _

_You rock out in your room,_

_I rock a world premiere. _

_We're more alike than anybody could ever tell. _

_(Ever tell)_

_- One and the Same_

_Selena Gomez and Demi Lovato_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hi there.<strong>_

I'm Kurt Hummel.

**I'm Bentley Garrison.**

**_And this is our story._**

_As of now, we've only just met each other in a coffee shop; I guess you could call it fate._

**Together, we're forming a plan, but we have no idea what kind of insanity we're signing up for.**

_But I have a feeling we're going to find out._

* * *

><p>"Twins?" Bentley asked quietly, almost in disbelief, but something in his brown eyes showed that he agreed. He shook his head. "No . . . no, we can't be twins . . . I . . . I'm an only child . . ."<p>

Kurt sighed. "I thought I was, too. I mean, aside from my step-brother, but that's only because his mom and my dad got married, so . . ." Bentley gave him a look, and Kurt knew that he should stop talking. "S-sorry." He redirected his gaze to his coffee cup.

Bentley swallowed. "I . . . I guess it's possible . . ." he started. ". . . I mean, we look a little alike . . ." Kurt looked up and raised an eyebrow that said 'You're kidding me, right?' Bently laughed. "Okay, a _lot_ alike, and, the thing is . . . I'm adopted."

Kurt's eyebrows shot up past his hairline. "Oh." Was all he cold really manage.

Bentley rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I was put up for adoption right after I was born, and I live with my adoptive parents - Bridget and Michael, but I call them Mom and Dad." He pulled out his wallet, and opening it, showed Kurt a photo. Looking at the old, crumpled picture, Kurt saw a young baby - probably not even a year old - that was scarily similar to what he looked like as a baby, cradled in the arms of a woman with short, jet black hair and chocolate eyes. She was smiling broadly at the camera, almost laughing, and behind her was an equally happy looking man with spiky brown hair and blue eyes. Kurt couldn't help but smile at the happy photo. "I've known that I was adopted for as long as I can remember, because they thought I deserved to know." Benley explained, tucking the photo back into his wallet and taking a sip of coffee.

"They sound nice." Kurt said.

Bentley nodded. "They are." Then, for a moment, he paused. "So, our mother and father," he seemed to stumble over the words a bit, "They . . . you live with them?" He asked, sounding a bit sad as he looked down at his hands.

Kurt had never felt so horrible in his entire life.

He couldn't believe that this had only hit him now. Of course Bentley would feel sad about this - their parents had kept Kurt and not him! Kurt suddenly felt sympathetic for him and frowned.

"As . . . far as I know." Kurt said, and startled himself at the truth of the statement. _Was_ he living with his biological father? Or had he just not told him he was adopted?

No. Because Bentley's last name was Hummel, too.

Or, at least, it used to be.

Plus, Kurt had seen his own birth certificate numerous times.

"Are they nice?" Bentley's voice cut through Kurt's thoughts.

Kurt blinked a few times to process what he had asked. "Oh . . . yes, um . . . dad is." He said, his gaze falling.

"What about mom?" Bentley said, and Kurt could almost feel how uncomfortable he was using that word.

Kurt took a deep breath. "She . . . she was."

"She's not anymore?"

"I wouldn't know, she's dead."

Bentley choked on his coffee for a moment before he could respond. "Oh my God, I'm . . . I'm sorry . . ."

"_You're_ sorry?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow. "_I'm_ sorry that you never got to meet her." He apologized before he could stop himself.

Bentley only shrugged. "Well, what about . . . uh, dad? What's he like?"

Kurt bit his lip before responding. "Honestly? He is . . . the most amazing dad ever. He's kind, fun, has a good sense of humor, and is a _horrible_ dancer just like any other dad," This earned a laugh from Bentley. "But above all he's accepting."

Bentley nodded, those froze on the last part. "Accepting?" He asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Kurt sighed. Here it was. Here was the part where Kurt told Bentley he was gay and he never talked to him again. Where Bentley would look at him in disgust and say that Kurt couldn't be his brother, because there was no way he was related to a fag.

"I'm gay." He managed to say it quickly and proudly, his chin held up high, and braced himself for slurs.

But they never came.

"Oh." Bentley said simply with a nod, taking another sip of his coffee.

"_Oh?_" Kurt repeated Bentley, who raised an eyebrow at him. "That's all you have to say?"

Bentley brow furrowed. "Um . . . congratulations?" He tried.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "You . . . don't have a problem wth it?"

"No."

"Are _you_ gay?"

Bentley only laughed. "No, I'm straight, but it just doesn't bother me. My best friend back home is gay."

Kurt's eyebrows raised. "Really?"

"Yeah, his name's Blaine." Bentley explained, pulling out his wallet again to show Kurt a picture. Kurt looked close, seeing Bentley in the middle of laughing with his arm around a curly haired boy. The boy - Blaine, Kurt assumed it was - had deep, playful hazel eyes that were just _dancing _with laughter in the picture. He had his arm around Bentley's shoulder's as well, his mouth in a wide, laughing smile. There was a beach in the background of the picture was bright with sunlight.

"He's . . ." Kurt cut himself off with a blush.

Bentley laughed again. "Go on, you can say it. I hear it all the time from Blaine; he's out and _very_ much proud."

Kurt smiled at how surprisingly comfortable he felt with Bentley. "He's cute." He said with a shrug.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Bentley teased, and Kurt shoved his shoulder lightly.

Kurt took a sip of his coffee when he remembered the surroundings of the picture. "Do you live near a beach or something?"

Bentley smirked. "Los Angeles, California." He said proudly.

Kurt started choking on his coffee. "_What?_" He managed to splutter out. "No way!"

"Yes way!" Bentley said.

"What are you doing up here, then?" Kurt asked.

Bentley shrugged. "My dad has business trips up here every now and then . . .

"No kidding," Kurt said, shaking his head. "When are you leaving?" He asked, taking another sip of coffee.

Bentley frowned. "Tomorrow, actually." He answered, looking down.

Kurt's face fell. "Oh," He said. "That's . . . that's too bad, I . . . I was hoping to learn more about you." He said sadly, and Bentley bit his lip.

Then, Bentley laughed.

"What?" Kurt asked, his brow furrowing.

Bentley shook his head. "Uh, nothing - it's stupid."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Bentley, trust me - I know stupid, and you're not it. What was so funny?" He asked.

Bentley sighed a little. "I . . . I was just gonna suggest that we . . . trade lives for a little while . . ." He finished, looking down and not making eye contact. "Stupid, I know."

"That's not stupid." Kurt said quietly, and for a moment Bentley wasn't sure if he had said it at all.

His head shot up. "What?"

"I said that it isn't stupid." Kurt answered shyly, worrying his bottom lip beween his teeth.

Bentley's eyes were the size of dinner plates. "Kurt," He started, and Kurt decided that it was odd, heaing your name from a voice that was so similar to yours. "Are you saying that . . . that you want to?" He asked, leaving off on a high note.

Kurt swallowed. "Why not?" He asked. "I mean, I would absolutely _love_ to see L.A., and wouldn't you want to meet our dad?" Bentley's posture straightened and his entire face lit up with hope as he nodded eagerly. Kurt took a deep breath. "Then I say we do it," But then his face fell. "But wait," He started. "What about getting back? How are we gonna trade back after a little while?" He asked, already feeling his hopes shattering.

Bentley still sported the same smile as he shook his head. "My dad has business trips here in Lima all the time, don't worry," He assured Kurt. "We can trade back whenever we want." He said.

Kurt smile returned and his whole face lit up. "So it's official. I leave tomorrow as you and you stay here with me."

Bentley held his hand out. "You've got yourself a deal."

Kurt reached out and shook the outstretched hand. "Deal."

* * *

><p>Bentley laid down on his bed in the motel room, his black head phones over his ears a she listened to 'Animal I Have Become' by Three Days Grace. He began to hum along as his eyes drifted shut, and he was just about to fall asleep-<p>

_Clunk!_

Bentley opened one eyes at the noise and raised an eyebrow, but shook it off and closed his eyes again.

_Clunk!_

Just don't think about it . . . it's probably just a racoon or something.

_Clunk!_

Just ignore it . . .

_Clunk!_

"Bentley! What the Hell are you doing in there?"

Kurt!

Bentley sat up and shut off his iPod, tossing the headphones aside and moving towards the window, opening it up. "Kurt? What are you doing here?" He asked confusedly when he saw his twin - God, he would never get used to that - dressed in all black carrying a small black box.

"I'm here because we need to learn about each other and our families before we trade places," Kurt explained. "What are we gonna do? Tell them that we've just randomly lost our memory?"

"Good point." Bentley said.

"Well, help me in." Kurt said, holding out his hand. Bentley took it and pulled as Kurt slid in, but suddenly lost his grip and Kurt tumbled to the floor with an 'oof!'

"Sorry! Sorry!" Bentley apologized, helping Kurt up.

"S'fine . . ." Kurt waved it off, though his voice came out in a grunt. "Get my box." He instructed, and Bentley picked up the small black box balanced on the window sill.

"What is it?" He asked, looking at it and turning it around in his hands.

"Pictures," Kurt answered, taking the box from him and opening it up, revealing a neat stack of photos inside. He pulled one out and sat on the bed, placing the box on one side of him and patting the other side as a gesture for Bentley to sit down. He handed the picture to Bentley and pointed to it. "This is a picture from dad and Carole's wedding last year. That's Finn, my - er, _our_ step-brother, and Carole is our step-mother, obviously. Our dad's name is Burt, he owns a car shop, which I work at because I am a certified mechanic. I know everything there is to know about cars. What do you know?" He asked.

Bentley's brow furrowed. "Uh . . . I know that the wheels stop turning when you hit the brake pedal, and they start when you hit the gas pedal." He said with an apologetic smile.

Kurt sighed and hung his head. "Okay, if dad asks you to help him in the shop, say no." He said.

Bentley scoffed and gave his shoulder a light shove.

Kurt chuckled and put the picture back, pulling out a group photo. "This is New Directions."

Bentley's eyes widened. "Did you just say 'Nude Erections?'" He asked, appalled.

Kurt sighed and face palmed. "See? This is the type of stuff we have to go through every day," He said. "No, the _New Directions_, Bentley. They're McKinley's school Glee club and the highlight of my day. Honestly it's the only reason I get up in the morning to go to school in the first place."

"You're in Glee club?" Bentley asked, worry tinging his voice.

Kurt raised one delicate eyebrow. "Yes . . . why?"

Bentley looked down at his hands and sighed. ". . . I can't sing. At all."

Kurt's mouth fell open in horror. "Bentley Garrison, I refuse to believe that you are my brother if you cannot sing," He said. "Sing right now. Show me."

Bentley laughed humorlessly. "No. No way. Not a chance."

"C'mon! Just show me if you're bad or not and we'll figure something out." Kurt reasoned.

Bentley sighed and defeat and nodded. "Fine, okay . . ." He agreed reluctantly, and then opened his mouth to sing, but paused. "What should I sing?"

Kurt shrugged. "What type of music do you like?"

"I like rock." He offered.

Kurt laughed a bit. "Okay, so we have different taste in music, that's for sure . . . uh, try singing 'It's My Life' by Bon Jovi. If your range is anything like mine, the low pitch shouldn't be a problem at all."

Bentley nodded. "Okay, uh . . . _This ain't a song, for the brokenhearted . . ."_ He sang, and Kurt listened to his similar voice and nodded in approval as he continued.

"Good," Kurt said. "But much different from my style of music. Plus, your voice is a bit rougher than mine, and you don't have quite as much of a range. It doesn't matter anyways, really - Mr. Schue _never _gives me solos, so it shouldn't be a problem." He said with a smile.

"Well, what about you?" Bentley asked suddenly.

Kurt's brow furrowed. "Pardon?"

"I want to hear you sing. What kind of music do you like?" Bentley asked, holding his chin in his hand as he shifted into a criss-cross-applesauce position.

Kurt's eyes lit up visibly. "I like all kinds of music," He answered. "Some more than others, of course, but I am very much capable of singing any genre I set my mind to. Showtunes rank number one. For instance, 'Defying Gravity' is one of my favorite songs, from the greatest muscial of all time." He announced proudly.

"And wht musical would that be?"

Kurt's fell open in horror. "No. Nope. There is no possible way that I am related to you," Bentley laughed. "'Wicked,' Bentley! You're not telling me you haven't heard 'Defying Gravity?'" He asked, cringing.

Bentley smiled up at him. "I dunno; sing it."

Kurt grinned broadly. "Well, if you insist," He teased, and took a breath. "_Something has changed within me, something is not the same . . ."_ He lost himself in the song, not noticing how Bentley's jaw fell open in amazement until he had finished and Bentley started clapping loudly. Kurt laughed at the reaction.

"Wow, you're really good!" Bentley said, his eyes sparkling in fascination, and his mile quickly fell into a smirk. "Blaine would _definitely_ like _you._" He teased, and Kurt shoved him off of the bed.

They were acting like close brothers already, and they had only met twelve hours ago.

* * *

><p>"Okay," Bentley sighed the word, looking Kurt up and down and checking his outfit. Kurt was clad in baggy jeans that hung low on his hips, a black leather jacket over a blue T-shirt that had the Warner Brothers symbol on it, though obove the symbol read, 'If you see the police' and in place of Warner Bros. was 'Warn a Brother.' Bentley wore tight white skinny jeans with zippers running diagonally all the way down his leg, an oversized green long-sleeved shirt and black and whte striped fingerless gloves with black converse that reached his knees. "So, Mom's name?"<p>

"Bridget." Kurt answered.

"Dad's name?"

"Michael."

"You go to . . ."

"Venice High."

"Best friends' names?"

"Blaine Anderson, Wes Montgomery and David Nicklin."

Bentley smiled. "Good, You've been taught well, young grasshopper." Kurt laughed.

"Okay, you're turn," He said. "New Directions' names and personalities?"

Bentley took a deep breath. "Mercedes Jones; total diva, black, good fashion sense, best friend, shopping buddy. Rachel Berry; attention whore, gets all the solos, other best friend but a pain in the ass. Santana Lopez; used to be a bitch but isn't anymore, lesbian and former cheerleader. Brittany Pierce; Santana's girlfriend, sweetest thing, will call me her 'dolphin' and not the brightest crayon in the pack," He explained the rest of the New Directions in impressive detail right down to Puck's Mohawk.

"Dad's name?"

"Burt."

"Step-mother's name?"

"Carole and I call her Carole."

"Step-brother's name?"

"Finn."

Kurt took a deep breath. "I think you're ready." He said proudly.

"As are you." Bentley said.

Suddenly, they were both tearing up and they crashed together in a spine-crushing hug, clinging to each other for dear life.

"I'm gonna miss you, Bentley." Kurt whispered into his ear, hugging him tightly.

"You, too, Kurt," Bentley returned before pulling away and looking him in th eyes. "Good luck." He said.

"Bentley?" Michael's voice called out, and Kurt's head whipped around.

"Go," Bentley said, and Kurt nodded before running off. "And text me when you get there!" Kurt heard Bentley call after him.

He met Bentley's sdoptive father at the entrance of the plane and they smiled at each other before boarding. Looking over his shoulder one last time, Kurt caught Bentley's eye, seeing his smile and thumbs-up, and Kurt did the same before hurrying after Michael.

When they sat in their seats, Kurt looked out the window and a wave of sadness washed over him. He thought about how much he was going to miss everyone, but his thoughts were cut off with ones filled with L.A. and beaches and sun.

"You okay, son?" Michael asked, his brow creased with worry.

Kurt looked over and smiled. "Yeah, dad. I'm fine," He said, looking back out the window. " Just excited to go home.

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><p><em><strong>Next Episode: <strong>Kurt meets Blaine for the first time, and Bentley meets Rachel. Can you say, 'smitten?'_

_Please review and tell me what you thought. (:_


	2. Meet The Parents

_First, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed for the first chapter for their amazing support. It was so much more than I expected, I can honestly say, and to those who commented on this being based off of 'The Parent Trap' and 'Lottie and Lisa' - you are ever so correct. This fic is roughly based off of the movies and book, though Kurt and Bentley's mother remains dead, so it isn't exactly the same. I would agree that it is more like 'Sister, Sister' than anything._

_I do hope you enjoy this episode as much as the last. _

_**-I don't own Glee, otherwise it wouldn't be half as amazing as it is now.-**_

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><p><strong>The Switch<strong>

**Episode Two: Meet The Parents**

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><p><em>There are two things in life for which we are never truly prepared: <em>

_Twins. _

_-Josh Billings_

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><p>Bentley walked into the Hudson-Hummel household, shaking a bit.<p>

He couldn't help but be nervous, of course, because for the first time in his life, he was going to meet his biological father. The same one he had so many times wondered what he would be like, what he would sound like, what he would look like . . . everything, and here he was, walking into his house.

_Deep breaths,_ He reminded himself. _Remember, you're not Bentley; you're Kurt. You're Kurt freaking Hummel and you can't screw this up so quickly by acting like a total-_

"Kurt? That you, buddy?" Burt's voice rang from the living room, and Bentley froze.

He swallowed, suddenly finding his mouth very dry, and licked his lips. "Yeah, Dad, I'm back from Santana's." He called back, and he cursed his voice for shaking. He honestly didn't want to kick off his relationship with his biological father with a lie, but this was the only way he would probably _ever_ meet him, and he didn't know about this Santana chic, but Kurt said that he called Santana and that she would cover for him ("_Are you finally doing something bad, Hummel? I'm impressed. Yeah, sure, you were here last night, no problem.")._

Bentley took one deep breath before stepping into the living room.

_Oh, God, there he is._

Bentley's eyes locked on the man that was his father, slackjawed. Burt sat on the couch, his blue work shirt and cap still on, and his legs positioned with one foot flat on the floor, the other up, resting on his knee. One arm was slung across the back of the couch lazily while the other held a remote, resting on the armrest. He looked so content - so worry-free sitting there, not having any idea that the boy a few feet away from him was not the son he grew to know, but the twin he had given up so many years ago.

The one he hadn't wanted.

Bentley swallowed.

"Hey, Dad."

* * *

><p>Kurt stepped off of the plane and into the airport and smiled, looking around. Even from inside of the airport everything was bigger and brighter. He looked out the window at the bright sky and the happy yellow tinge that seemed to touch <em>everywhere<em>.

Sure, maybe it wasn't the picture perfect city that dripped with movie stars and adventure that every movie portrayed, but it still kicked Ohio's ass.

"Bentley!" He heard, and turned to see three boys jogging over to him with impossibly wide smiles, flashing bright white teeth and waving their arms. Kurt tried to pinpoint which boy was which successfully. Wes was the mischievous-looking Asian boy with black hair and tanned skin, and David was the African-American with dancing eyes and a laughing smile. And . . .

. . . oh.

Kurt eyes fell on Blaine, the boy from the picure. He had beautiful, laughing hazel eyes, and a wide goofy smile that was just utterly adorable. He wore dark wash skinny jeans and a royal blue polo - such a tacky color in Kurt's eyes, but in this case he would make an exception. His black hair was in wild fluffy curls that bounced with every step, and Kurt suddenly had the overwhelming urge to run his hands through them.

Good lord, this boy was gorgeous.

And oh, hello. They were right in front of him.

* * *

><p><em>You come from here,<em>

_I come from there._

_You rock out in your room,_

_I rock a world premiere._

_We're more alike than anybody could ever tell._

_(Ever tell)_

_- One and the Same_

_Selena Gomez and Demi Lovato_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hi there.<strong>_

_I'm Kurt Hummel._

**I'm Bentley Garrison.**

_But we're the only ones that know that, because now I'm in California. And it's too late to turn back._

**I'm in Lima. It's different here, but it's where my Dad is. My _real_ Dad.**

_And it's different **here**_, _but it holds my future of being famous._

_**And right where we are is absolutely gorgeous to us.**_

* * *

><p>Burt looked up from the TV, his eyes landing on Bentley. "Hey, kiddo," He said, turning his gaze back to the TV distractedly. Bentley swallowed, staring at him, and shifted awkwardly on both feet, making Burt look back up. "Can, I, uh . . . help you with something, buddy?" He asked.<p>

Bentley's mouth gaped for a minute, searching for a valid response, before he looked down and shook his head. "No, I . . . just . . . c-could I just have a hug?" He asked, giving a small, questioning smile.

Burt's face softened. "Yeah, bud, c'mere," He said, holding out an arm, and Bentley didn't waste any time with crossing the room and settling into the couch and into his father's arms. Burt circled his arm around Bentley's shoulders and squeezed confortingly, and Bentley curled into himself and placed his head in the crook of Burt's neck, letting his eyes slide shut as he inhaled, drinking in the sight, smell and presence of his father.

Burt smelled like motor oil and Old Spice cologne.

Bentley wouldn't have changed it if he could.

"You okay?" Burt asked, catching sight of a tear rolling down Bentley's cheek that Bentley himself had failed to notice.

"Yeah, Dad," Bentley said, a smile growing on his face as he looked up into Burt's eyes, registering fully that yes, _this_ was his father, and here he was in his arms, as if being told that everything was going to be okay.

Because for now, it really was.

"I just missed you. A lot," He said, shifting further into Burt's grasp.

"You were gone for a night," Burt clarified with a chuckle.

Bentley sniffed. "Seemed a lot longer than that."

* * *

><p>"Hey, guys!" Kurt said, trying to tell himself to <em>think like Bentley, damnit! <em>He stepped forward to wrap all three of them in a group hug, and he felt them tense a bit before awkwardly hugging back. He pulled away, and his smile faltered a little when he saw the confused smiles on the three boys, and mentally face-palmed. That probably wasn't something Bentley would do. He gave an apoogetic smile and a laugh. "Sorry, I just missed you guys." He said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"You were gone for five days," Blaine laughed, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes dancing with laughter.

"Right," Kurt breathed a laugh. "So what are you guys doing here?" He shoved his hands into his leather jacket pockets.

"We were gonna see if you wanted a ride," Wes said with a smile. "We were gonna head out for lunch when you came home, but we thought it'd be easier to just pick you up here if you were interested in coming."

"Oh," Kurt said, and then turned to Michael, who was grabbing his and Bentley's suitcases from the conveyer belt. "Dad," He called, and the man turned. "Can I catch a ride with the guys? We're going out."

Michael only gave a smile and a nod. "Curfew's at twelve!" He reminded, and Kurt smiled.

He turned back to the three teens. "Guess I'm with you guys." He said with a smile.

"Awesome," Blaine said with a huge Cheshire cat grin. "Let's go, then."

Kurt nodded, following the three out of the airport and falling ito step with Wes and David, who both clapped him on the back and said, "Welcome back, dude," simultaneously.

Kurt tried not to be weirded out by that, considering that Bentley had warned him about how the two were attatched at the hip, and managed to successfully look unfazed.

"Thanks, guys. Good to be back," He said with a nod, and as they reached Blaine's car, his eyes widened and he bit his lip so hard to bite back a gasp that he tasted the coppery tang of blood. Kurt would know that car anywhere - he and his Dad practically worshipped the type.

Blaine had a Ferrari Enzo. A black Ferrari Enzo.

"Dibs on riding with Blaine in his new car!" David called out next to him with a triumphant laugh, taking Kurt out of his trance with a start.

"Aw, no fair! _I_ wanted to ride with him," Wes pouted.

"Too bad, so sad," David said, sticking his tongue out.

"Incredible to see that you two haven't matured in the few days I've been gone," Kurt remarked, trying to think like Bentey and mask his awe of the car.

He earned a loud laugh from Blaine."Hey, you guys, I think it's Bentley's turn," He said, shooting Kurt a playful wink.

Kurt gave a sort of strangled laugh and smirked at the two pouting boys, trying to stay in character, as odd as that sounded to say it out loud. "Ha, Blaine likes me more," He teased, and Blaine laughed again, but it sounded more surprised.

"Someone has a sudden rush of confidence," Blaine said, his eyes scrunched with laughter adorably.

_No, God damn! You **cannot **think that he's adorable when you're trying to be a **straight guy, **damn it!_

Kurt stepped back with wide eyes as the doors popped out and up, tilting as they rose, but snapped out of it and got into the vehicle when Blaine did, being as careful as he could possibly be. As the doors shut, he slid his large Prada sunglasses up on his nose sassily and looked over at Blaine.

"Well that's because I have a reason to be," He said, raising his eyebrows twice suggestively with a smirk.

Blaine laughed.

Kurt could've sworn he'd also seen him blush.

* * *

><p>Bentley walked into McKinley for the first time, taking a deep, shaking breath. Kurt had given him a detailed map of the school and a copy of his schedule, but still - Kurt said he'd had perfect attendance save for trips to the Pricipal's office for the glee boys' antics and bullies going too far, and he really didn't want to mess it up for him.<p>

He stopped at his locker, and Mercedes walked up to him with a smile.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" She aked cheerily, and Bentley decided that he liked her already, and smiled back.

"The ceiling, the sky, Finn's height, the number of women Puck's slept with, obesity rate, America's debt . . . shall I go on?" Bentley raised an eyebrow to go with the question, and Mercedes laughed. Bentley just barely held back a sigh of relief, glad that he had successfully said something that was very Kurt-esque.

Mercedes smiled broadly and linked their arms once Bentley shut the locker. "Boy, you are just all kinds of crazy today," She said.

Bentley was going to reply, but just then, Finn and a Mohawked boy that Bentley recognized as Puck decided to run down the hall, clutching cans of spray paint and toilet paper stuck to their feet and clothes. Their eyes were wide and they kept looking over their shoulders at something, rushing through the crowds.

"Look out! Look out!" They both called, dodging open lockers and shifting around stray teens.

Moments later, a scary-looking blonde-haired woman charged after them, looking positively _furious._

"Yeah, you better run, perverts! I'll tell you right now, my Cheerios _do not need any distractions . . . !"_ Her voice faded away with every angry step, and soon the crowded hallway was awkwardly quiet.

Bentley swallowed. That Sylvester chic was even more frightening than Kurt had prepared him for.

He cleared his throat and turned up his chin. "Well, considering that everyone else here is quite crazy," He glanced down the hall, "I suppose it was only a matter of time before it spread to me," He said, turning in the direction of French class.

Mercedes laughed. "Whatever you say, white boy."

Bentley started to laugh, when suddenly a small, brown-haired girl roughly crashed into him.

The girl looked up with big, brown apologetic eyes and _God, _Bentley was damned if they weren't the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen in his life.

"Oh, sorry Kurt," The girl apologized, snaping Bentley out of his trance. "These idiots really need to watch where they're tossing me around," She gave one withering glare towards the crowds, clutching her notebooks to her chest, looking so beautiful and incredibly delicate to Bentley.

"Give it up, Rachel," Mercedes said, "They're never gonna stop pushing us around, even when we're famous. They'll be pushing into our own septic tanks while cleaning them," She rolled her eyes.

Bentley blinked. _This _was Rachel? _This _was the girl he was supposed to be in competition with while at the same time be her friend? (God, that sounded confusing to him . . . ) _This_ was the annoying girl that never stopped talking about herself?

She didn't look selfish at all.

To Bentley, she just looked lost and lonely.

Rachel gave a half-hearted smile and a short nod in response to Mercedes before her eyes flicked back to Bentley. Her brow furrowed. "Kurt?" She asked, looking at Bentley with worry.

"Hm?" Bentley shook his head a bit and looked at her as platonically as he could.

Rachel looked down a little. "You were staring at me," She said quietly with a small smile.

Mercedes sighed. "Oh, Rachel, honey, you just broke things off with Finn," She reminded Rachel kindly. "You can't start convincing yourself that every other boy likes you, at least not yet," She teased, nudging Rachel arm a bit.

Rachel smiled back. "Right," She said, and then the school bell rang out through the halls and her eyes moved to one of them before falling back on the two friends. "Well, I'll see you guys in glee, I suppose," She said, and walked by them without another word, heading to her next class.

Bentley and Mercedes watched her go, sadness clear on their features.

"I feel so bad for her," Mercedessaid, making Bentley look over. "I mean, she and Finn have already gone through so much," She turned and started walking to Spanish. "And it all came crashing down because Finn was too overwhelmed with college coming so quickly and everything," She let out a sigh.

"I kind of feel like I should kick his ass when we get home," Bentley said, not having to lie about that.

Mercedes chuckled. "And maybe you should," She said, turning in the othe direction. "See you, Kurt," She waved before walking away and out of Bentley's sight.

Bentley stood still for a moment before sighing and pulling the map out of his pocket.

"Let's see . . ." He mumbled to himself. "French class. . ."

He followed the map, making his way down the hall.

* * *

><p>Kurt belly-flopped onto Bentley's water-bed, laughing a little at how it bounced underneath him, and pulled out Bentley's cell phone. The two had traded cell phones before parting, that way they wouldn't have to swap <em>every single contact, <em>and they could just put each others' numbers in the phones. He scrolled through Bentley's contacts, smiling a little as his eyes scanned over Blaine's name, and he tapped on _'Kurt,'_ moving the phone to his ear.

It took a couple of rings for Bentley to pick up, and Kurt started idly toying and pulling at a stray string that hung off of Bentley's comforter to distract himself before he heard Bentley's scarily familiar voice.

_"Hello?"_

Kurt smiled. "Well, hello to you, too," He said.

_"Oh, hey, Ku- Bentley!" _Kurt raised an eyebrow as Bentley cut himself off and gave a nervous laugh, obviously moving away from somewhere. _"No, Dad, it's fine; it's just a guy I met at the Lima Bean the other day," _There was shuffling on the other end of the line, and then the sound of a door closing. _"Sorry 'bout that, but, God, your Dad is overprotective," _Bentley chuckled.

"_Our _Dad, Bentley," Kurt corrected, and there was a short pause before he got a response.

_"Yeah, our," _Bentley said, and Kurt smiled at the content tone. _"So, anyway, what's goin' on, my brother from the same dead mother?"_

Kurt would've laughed, but, remembering why he had even called in the first place, his eyes narrowed. "What's up? I'll tell you what's up - the doors on Blaine's freaking _Ferrari Enzo, _that's what freaking _up,"_ He said.

_"Oh, yeah, isn't it sweet?" _Came Bentley's excited voice. _"Did he let you ride with him? Or did Wes or David call shotgun **again?**"_

Kurt rested his chin in his hand. "No, I got to ride with- wait! I'm mad at you!" He cut himself off and shook his head roughly, as if it would rid him of any distractions.

_"Oh, um . . . okay, can I ask why?"_

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose between his fore finger and thumb. "Bentley, hel-_lo!"_ He spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He threw his free hand up. "How the Hell can he afford something like that all on his own?" He asked.

_"I told you he had money," _Bentley protested with a laugh.

"Yeah, Bent, you said he had _money," _Kurt said. "You didn't say that he was a _freaking billionaire_," He accused.

_"Well technically, his parents are the billionaires_," Bentley said, and Kurt could practically hear him smirking through the phone. _"He just gets a bunch of stuff and has a huge allowance." _

"Whatever, Bentley," Kurt was annoyed, but he couldn't fight the smile that crept onto his face at his brother's smart-ass-ness.

_"Aw, come on, that was funny!"_

"You are such a child," Kurt said, trying not to laugh.

"_I know you're smiling over there, I can sense it through the phone," _Bentley teased.

"I am not," Kurt argued, though a short laugh escaped his lips.

_"Ha! I heard you laugh!" _

Kurt laughed and dropped his face into the palm of his hand. "I hate you," He said.

_"No, you looove me," _Bentley emphasized the word 'love.'

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What makes you so sure?" He asked.

_"I'm your twin - you have to love me, we're like . . . attatched by our souls or something," _He said.

Kurt laughed loud in confusion and his brow furrowed. "What?" He laughed.

_"It's true - I looked it up," _Bentley said smartly, and Kurt shook his head.

"Whatever - you also didn't say that he was the, like, the most perfect person in the world," Kurt mumbled, still tugging at the stray string.

_"Huh? What do you mean the most perfect person in the world? I'm pretty sure I have that spot filled," _Bentley said, Kurt laughed. _"Wait, you don't have . . . a crush on him, do you?"_

Silence.

Bentley laughed in disbelief. _"Oh my God, you do! You like Blaine!"_

Kurt blushed profusely. "No, I don't!" He protested.

_"Oh, really," _Bentley said sarcastically, and Kurt knew hewas rolling his eyes.

"Well, I . . . I don't know if I do or not," Kurt said quietly. "I mean, give me a break - he's sweet, and cute, but I've only known him for a day. Is it bad that I may like him just a _little?_" Kurt asked.

"_Well, considering that you're pretending to be me, and **I **_just so happen to be straight, then yes, Kurt, I'd say it is bad," __He said.

Kurt sighed. "Yeah, well, maybe it'll go away once I get to know him better," He reasoned. "Listen, I'm gonna take a shower. I'll call you tomorrow, alright?" He said.

_"Yeah, sure. Make sure to get in those hard-to-reach places!"_

"Good_bye, _Bentley," Kurt said with a smile, and hung up when he heard Bentley's laughter.

He sighed and gathered his stuff for the shower.

This was gonna be a long few weeks.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Next Episode<em>**_: Bentley goes through his first Glee Club meeting, and finds an interest in a certain brunette soloist, while Kurt starts spending more time with Blaine. _


End file.
